


If You Think It's Funny

by puck1919



Series: Take On Me [1]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Alcohol, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, Google Translate Spanish, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23897275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puck1919/pseuds/puck1919
Summary: Drake gets invited to a night out with other employees of McDuck Enterprises, and meets someone who captures his attention.
Relationships: Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera/Drake Mallard
Series: Take On Me [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1688977
Comments: 2
Kudos: 60





	If You Think It's Funny

**Author's Note:**

> "Well I can dance with you, honey  
> If you think it's funny  
> Does your mother know that you're out?"  
> — ABBA, "Does Your Mother Know"

In the back of House of Mouse, Launchpad, Mrs. Beakley, and Drake had staked a claim on a small area with a couch and a pair of armchairs. Drake drummed his fingers on the armrests of the chair that he was in. 

“Are you sure I’m okay here?” Drake said.

“Hey, it’s good,” Launchpad said.

“I just, I don’t really feel like I’m a part of this whole... ecosystem, I guess,” Drake said.

“Nonsense," Mrs. Beakley said. “You were right there with us for the invasion—”

“I wasn’t,” Drake said quickly. “I mean, I heard Darkwing Duck was there, very dashing, could have saved the world himself, but, you know, that wasn’t the plan—”

“Young man, I’ve fought communists, career criminals, and one very destructive bubble in my time as a spy,” Mrs. Beakley said. “If you think I can’t figure out that Launchpad’s best friend is Darkwing Duck, you are sorely mistaken.”

“Wait, Dewey is _also_ Darkwing?” Launchpad said. 

Drake pinched the bridge of his beak, trying not to laugh.

“Best _adult_ friend,” Mrs. Beakley said.

“I think it’s time for a drink,” Drake said. 

Mrs. Beakley waved over a waiter. “A bottle of Glenmorangie Cygnet and a glass and whatever these two want.”

“I’m driving, so, some Crystal Pep?” Launchpad said.

“A White Russian,” Drake said.

The waiter nodded and went to get their orders.

“The Big Larkowski?” Mrs. Beakley said.

Drake shrugged. “The Dude abides.”

Quackfaster and Fenton arrived together. Drake hadn’t really met Gyro’s assistant before, but he was _very_ cute, grinning ear to ear and waving to Launchpad at the door. They came over and Fenton took the space between Launchpad and Drake.

“Hey,” Drake said, leaning over to shake his hand. “I’m Drake. McDuck Pictures.”

“Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera,” Fenton said, his voice strangely familiar. “McDuck Labs. Launchpad’s said a lot about you.”

“Has he?” Drake asked, looking over at Launchpad.

“All good things!” Fenton said. 

Drake laughed. “I doubt Launchpad could say anything bad about anyone. Gyro’s on his way?”

“Yeah, he got caught up with a project at the lab,” Fenton said. “He’ll be here soon.”

Quackfaster ordered another glass to share Mrs. Beakley’s whiskey and Fenton ordered a rum and Pep.

“So what have you been working on?” Drake asked him.

“Actually, I’ve been working on something exciting,” Fenton said. “It’s an experimental energy source made from a synthetic crystalline structure with organometallic ligands that converts mechanical energy to electrical energy and it actually _decreases_ resistance from friction over time as opposed to increasing resistance.”

Drake blinked. “Well, now that sounds like something.”

Fenton blushed. “Really? I mean, it really is! I, ah...”

“You don’t usually get this far?” Drake responded.

“Something like that,” Fenton said. 

“I know what that’s like,” Drake said. “I mean, it’s also a good thing you’re cute, because I had no idea what you were saying, but I sure enjoyed watching you say it, but yeah. I know what that’s like.”

Fenton blushed even harder.

The waiter came over with the group’s drinks. Halfway through the round, Gyro stumbled in. 

“Dr. Gearloose!” 

Fenton stood up and waved. He took a step and stumbled, falling into Drake’s lap. Drake felt his face getting hot and Fenton laughed awkwardly. 

“Sorry,” Fenton muttered. 

“You’re good,” Drake said. 

Gyro walked over to the group, definitely not in a straight line. He took the spot Fenton had unintentionally vacated. 

“So... what’s up?” Drake said. “Fenton said you were working on—”

“Vitameatavegimin,” Gyro said. “Nutritional supper-ment.”

“And how much alcohol is in that, buddy?” Drake asked. 

“Twen’ three percent,” Gyro said, snorting. “And _counting_. I’ll have a grasshopper...”

“You work for this guy,” Drake said to Fenton.

“Yep,” Fenton said.

Fenton was still in Drake’s lap, which Drake figured might become a problem eventually. But on the other hand, Fenton seemed comfortable, laughing into Drake’s shoulder and enthusiastically slurring science terms that seemed to fit with Gyro’s slurred science terms and Drake figured there were worse things than having a cute, drunk scientist in his lap.

Then Mrs. Beakley offered to pass her bottle around. 

“30-year, single malt, Highland Scotch,” she said, handing Drake and Fenton shot glasses. “A favorite of Mr. McDuck’s, actually.”

“To Mr. McDuck, then,” Drake said. “After everything he’s done, and after everything we’ve done... he still signs our checks.”

The others laughed, except for Launchpad.

“I don’t get it,” he said.

“That’s fine, LP,” Drake said.

The scotch went down smooth. Gyro was almost completely limp— the only reason he was still upright was because he was leaning against Launchpad.

“LP, I think you might want to take him home,” Drake said. 

“Yeah, probably,” Launchpad said. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Launchpad helped Gyro out of the club. 

“That was Gearloose, _si_?” Fenton asked.

Drake paused. “Yeah, Fen.”

Fenton laughed. “ _Me gusta eso_ , ‘Fen’. A fen is actually a... _cuál es la palabra_... Like a wetland.”

“Like a swamp?” Drake asked.

“Fens are, ah... _una palabra como_ ... for biodiversity, they are... _maldición_... good for, means a lot...”

“Important?” Drake offered.

“ _¡Exactamente!_ ” Fenton said.

“Okay, then,” Drake said.

Fenton laughed.

“ _Eres hermoso_ ,” Fenton said.

“Oh, yeah?” Drake said, grinning. “Fen, I think you’re drunk.”

“Yer... cute,” Fenton muttered. 

Drake blushed. “Is that so?”

“Yeah...”

Fenton grabbed the front of Drake’s shirt and pulled him into a long, deep kiss that Drake melted into. Quackfaster whistled and Drake waved her off.

“Seriously?” he asked. 

“That boy’s needed a good lay as long as I’ve known him,” Quackfaster said. 

Fenton laughed. “ _Ella está en lo correcto_.”

“Yeah, maybe not when he’s so drunk he forgot he’s bilingual,” Drake said. 

“How gallant of you,” Mrs. Beakley deadpanned. “Might I ask what level of intoxication is appropriate for recreational intercourse?”

Drake blinked. “I... wha-?”

“Let me put this another way, you realize his mother is a homicide detective?” Mrs. Beakley said.

“So... she knows how to hide a body, excellent,” Drake said. “I should really get him home, then.”

Drake helped Fenton outside and looked for a cab.

“Ah, M’ma...” Fenton muttered, pulling out his phone. “ _Debería llamarla_...”

He dialed.

“M’ma? M’ma, _creo que nece-nece..._ ” He narrowed his eyes trying to remember the word. “Necessary... _para un_...”

“Mind if I try?” Drake said.

Fenton handed him his phone.

“Mrs. Crackshell-Cabrera?” Drake said.

“Mrs. Cabrera is fine,” Det. Cabrera said. “Who are you?”

“I’m Drake Mallard, I work with your son,” Drake said.

“Is he hurt?” she asked. 

“No, no,” Drake said. “Just had a bit too much to drink. I’m getting us a cab.”

“As long as he’s—”

Fenton grabbed the phone and started speaking in slurred and halting Spanish as Drake hailed them a cab. Drake ushered him in, while Fenton continued to ramble to his mother. Launchpad had gotten back and was walking up to the door.

“You guys need rides?” he asked.

“I... think we’re good,” Drake said. “I’m gonna let him crash at my place, let him dry out.”

Launchpad nodded. “I’m headed back in, Mrs. B insists she’s gonna need me and it takes a bit for her to get there.”

“Godspeed, LP,” Drake said, getting in the cab.

Fenton leaned against him and Drake put a hand on Fenton’s back. Fenton handed him the phone.

“She wants to talk with me?” 

Fenton nodded. Drake took the phone.

“Mrs. Cabrera?”

“He’s safe, right?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” Drake said. 

“Okay,” she said. “Okay, fine, but let me—”

“If anything happens, you’re my first call,” Drake said.

“He’s asleep, isn’t he?” she said. 

From Drake’s perspective, it seemed that Fenton couldn’t decide if he wanted to kiss Drake’s shoulder or sleep on it.

“Mostly.”

“Okay,” she said. “Tell him I’ll see him tomorrow.”

“Will do,” Drake said.

He hung up. Fenton kissed Drake’s neck as the cab stopped in front of the apartment building. Drake paid and tipped the driver.

“Come on, Fen, let’s get you to bed,” Drake said.

Up in the apartment, Drake helped Fenton into bed before going into the bathroom to change into a pair of pajama pants. 

“...Drake?”

Drake went back into the bedroom.

“Everything okay?” he asked, sitting next to him on the bed.

Fenton grinned. “ _Me gustas_.”

“That’s great, Fen,” Drake said. “Sleep now.”

Drake laid down and Fenton pulled him close, resting his head on Drake’s shoulder.

“ _Soy un superhér_...” he muttered.

“It’s all right,” Drake said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Not you,” Fenton muttered, finally falling asleep. “Me.”

Drake sighed, nodding. “Sure, Fen. Sure.”

**Author's Note:**

> Summary of drinks:
> 
> Glenmorangie Cygnet - a play on Glenmorangie Signet, a single-malt Scottish Whiskey, a dessert whiskey blend  
> White Russian - vodka and coffee liqueur with cream or milk, served on the rocks. popularized by the Coen Brothers' film "The Big Lebowski"  
> Crystal Pep - a play on Crystal Pepsi, a clear cola from the 1980's  
> Rum and Pep - half rum, half cola, served on the rocks  
> Vitameatavegimin - a fake nutritional supplement from _I Love Lucy_  
>  Grasshopper - an after-dinner cocktail, made with creme de cacao, creme de menthe, and cream


End file.
